album cover
September 7th
235
Hip-Hop
September 7th was released on February 3, 2017 by ErThangSkanless as a part of the album No Hooks
album cover
Release DateFebruary 3, 2017
LabelErThangSkanless
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM81

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
T.F
T.F
Performer
MYCHAL RYAN HATCH
MYCHAL RYAN HATCH
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
MYCHAL RYAN HATCH
MYCHAL RYAN HATCH
Songwriter

Lyrics

Ugh, ugh, okay, okay, ugh
September 7th, I be in the future
Off that line from the gutter, Drake and Future, ugh
The seats butter and the paint is stupid
Yeah that bitch sittin' fat lookin' like Rasputia, wait
I'm day dreamin', where the time go
Karate chopping bricks like I'm Tong Po
Karate kid crane kick front door
Turn a well known hitter to a John Doe
Head honcho, bitches call me Sancho
I'm all about my queso like Libre, Nacho
Fast lane pronto, double cup slow-mo
Erthang Skanless, mug shot for the promo
I spent my whole life duckin' popo
'Cause once they got your photo it's ugly as Quasimodo
E'rybody askin' what I'm trippin' for
'Cause I'm greezy like Louisiana river boats
What they hittin' for, henny I be sippin' on
Henny I be pourin' out for all my **** dead and gone
You better find a good bitch, make sure that she head strong
Make sure that her head dope and love you when ya bread gone
But all ya homies love you when your bread long
Them the same **** want ya head gone
Prayin' for my downfall, freeze frame, fuck y'all
Rewind that, that's on me, I ain't never trust y'all
Yeah **** that's real talk, that's real rap, that's real shit
Now fast forward that real shit, where e'rybody that's real went?
I'm still here with the same troops, they day one
No new **** but if you with us then you A1
Space Jam, ray guns, my guns look like play guns
We treat work like Play-Doh, we stretch that and make play dough
We go hard like playoffs, hit Greystone's, hit Playhouse
We don't go in, we just sit back and follow drunk marks back to they house, ugh
Yahtzee, Bingo
Big chips like Pringles, Big chips like Plinko
I shoot clutch like free-throws in a tie game and the clock gone
If I shoot twice and I score once, yellow tape my team on, ugh, ugh
No guts no glory, you save hoes like Maury, I play hoes like Sorry
Push button that start him, big Gs like Jordy
Twelve dated like Rodgers, street monster like Blanka
Smooth plug on the blanco, but I need a bitch like blanco
I find her I'ma go gorilla, King Kong, Congo
Punchlines like combos, turn studios into dojos
Turn condos into porn huts, square bitches, they born sluts
Dumb bitches get laced up, no tennis shoes, throw heels on 'em
That's Backpage, that's concrete, fifty toes, that's a five piece
Roscoe's number nine meat with the plenty syrup and the ice tea
Fuck Nino Brown, I'm like G-Money, I love Coco, Ice-T
Spice one, Bossalini, yeah bitch I'm from kill street
The killa gang, no killa block with a C-O-D kill-streak
I'ma live life till they kill me, earn stripes till they feel me
My mind gone, I need an operation, head doctor come heal me
My record long and it's filthy, I just wanna live wealthy
By any means I'ma get the cream, I'ma keep it trill like Bun B
One mic, one P, one key, one beat
That's all I need in this life of mine, in this life of rhyme, that's on me
Killa!
Written by: MYCHAL RYAN HATCH
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out􀆄 copy􀐅􀋲

Loading...